


Alone Together

by Accordionpea



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-04-29 18:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5138573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accordionpea/pseuds/Accordionpea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Snufkin summons Moomintroll just before bed for a quiet wandering in the forest together, to do the sort of things friends can enjoy perfectly alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the Nothing Whistle

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it's obvious enough, but Snufkin does not have a dick in this fic. He has a vag :v I hope somebody else out there is desirous of all the specifics of this fic!

It was just after dusk on a faintly cool, crisp summer night, a few days after a short rain-- when everything has that rinsed earth smell. The moominhouse was quiet, with everyone settling into bed. Moomintroll could have fallen asleep right then and been pleased with his day, but then came a whistle outside that meant nothing, which of course meant it didn’t mean ‘secrets’ or ‘trouble’ or ‘I have a plan’. Snufkin would say it has no meaning, and perhaps feel quite adamant about that, but Moomintroll had come to quietly understand it meant the kind of night where Snufkin wanted to sit in silence and perhaps, if the mood struck, share a word, or glance or two.

As much as Snufkin loved to be alone and deal only with himself, he had nights like these. They were few and far between, but there. Moomintroll felt privileged to be trusted with them.

The moment he heard a whistle, all sleepiness left him. He was never tired when Snufkin called him, and Snufkin would never apologize for keeping him up.

They wandered in silence for a while through the wood, listening to the skitter of creeps, shuffle of the trees and othersuch things you only hear when you’re completely quiet. Snufkin stopped at a patch of grass on a slight incline, and sat himself down without a word, to which Moomintroll followed suit. 

For some time, Snufkin played his harmonica, its warm tones gliding not too far into the surrounding trees to be a disturbance. It was Moomintroll’s favorite, All Small Beasts Should Have Bows in their Tails. Always he knew it was just for him when Snufkin played it. Once enough was had, they returned to silence.

Moomintroll’s eyes trailed to his friend often. Snufkin’s paw was disappeared in his trousers with his cloak pulled up some, and his eyes observed just the night’s stillness. This wasn’t uncommon, and nothing of special note or interest; one does what one wants in Moominvalley, so long as it doesn’t interrupt another too much, and nothing could interrupt Moomintroll less. The sound of Snufkin’s breath would join the night wind, and he loved to listen to it shift and change like a song. It isn’t a sort of thing he did himself like this (he’d be a little embarrassed to be seen openly) but it wasn’t the sort of thing he minded. 

Tonight, though, Moomintroll had a thought, and breaking the silence didn’t seem too rude just then.

"It's such a lovely night, “ he began, with the tone that only starts something and doesn’t finish it. He waits a beat, as Snufkin’s paw slows but doesn’t leave its position. “Do you think I could help?"

Snufkin hummed. “I don’t see why not.” It was as simple as that.

Without much hesitation at all, Moomintroll closed the distance between them enough to comfortably reach across Snufkin’s stomach. His own paw retreated to make room, and upon reaching in, Moomintroll immediately was struck with delight.

"There's hair!" he didn’t expect that, though he’d seen such on some sprites and other creatures, but never a snufkin. "It's pricklier than your head hair... not as soft."

"Ah, that is different isn't it. You're just the same all over" Snufkin joked, alluding to a moomin's bare everything. Moomintroll chuckled.

He trailed his paw down where it was so warm, and some wet. There was so much going on. Snufkin stired a little around him. As the immediate exhilaration faded, it dawned on him.

"Oh, I don't know what I'm doing," he said quite sheepishly.

"I can show you if you'd like," Snufkin offered.

"Oh, please do."

Snufkin’s paw (which was just smaller than Moomintroll’s) joined his, laying palm over his knuckles and placing fingers over fingers, asserting pressure on a few, and then urging them to move a little to and fro, in gentle rhythm. "There,” he said, “and like this.” Moomintroll offered an acknowledging humm, and dutifully moved his fingers as he was shown under Snufkin’s passive paw for a few minutes. It was tempting to glance at his eyes for the reassurance, but he was certain Snufkin would simply correct him if he had to.

And then the most lovely thing happened. Snufkin let out one of those heavy, shaky sighs he does, just as Moomintroll’s finger budged. Oh, it was incredible, and he felt elated all the way to his toes and ears, and all at once he felt so satisfied and so thirsty for more. His worries left him, and he was nothing but eager.

Steadily, Snufkin’s hips began to move under Moomintroll’s paw, as they established a pace and moved together. When Snufkin moved one way, Moomintroll pressed into him, and retreated for another, and waited for more sounds, which came sparsely (Snufkin was a quiet fellow in all respects) but were no less thrilling and wonderful to hear. 

Occasionally Moomintroll’s paw slipped in his excitement, and once, oh-- he watched Snufkin’s jaw tighten with teeth clenching when it happened. Moomintroll felt responsible for so much, and it made him dizzy.

He couldn’t bare to be silent, he wondered too much.

"Does it feel different when I do it?"

Snufkin breathed first, as of course Moomintroll’s paw had not paused, and was still gently rocking and swirling its fingers against him thoughtfully. He swallowed a few times, which Moomintroll relished and Snufkin knew and didn’t mind. "Yeah... it's more surprising." Snufkin tried to explain. He wasn’t so clever just now. "Its nice."

Moomintroll smiled and nodded, and Snufkin gave a little smile in return before his mouth had to part for breath he was having trouble grabbing. His eyes closed, and his hips shuddered forward more, and his paws pulled at the grass under them. Moomintroll watched Snufkin’s chest rise shakily and drop erratically, his throat bob as he swallowed, and his tongue slip out to lick his lips (Moomintroll couldn’t help licking his own in turn). He was made of so much movement, so much reaction, so many small things that felt so immense to him just now.

He pressed a bit harder, and Snufkin bit his lip briefly. He quickened his pace and oh—the most magnificent gasp escaped from Snufkin, sharp and hot! It dizzied him more.  
In an instant, Snufkin shook and his breath cut out, and Moomintroll stopped breathing with him without thought. It was a tremendous pause, and Moomintroll tried so hard to keep his paw moving while also drinking in as much as he could. He wanted to carry this scene with him in his mind, and the wetness on his paw too, and all of the air between them. 

Slowly, Snufkin seemed to dim, un-tensing inch by inch, and he sighed out all of the air held in him. There was a moment of forgetfulness, then Moomintroll remembered his paw and lifted it out carefully. Snufkin adjusted his cloak so it settled back against him as it always did.

“Wow,” whispered Moomintroll, and Snufkin laughed.


	2. a Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the previous escapade inspires Moomintroll to make a game of sorts.

It was a bright and lazy summer day, not the least bit muggy and not too dry to breathe easy. Snufkin sat under a tree, playing his harmonica, while moomintroll laid a few beats away in the most suitable grass for lounging.

In a moment Snufkin felt a bump in his side, stopping his playing to glance down at his friend, who had rolled to him seemingly. Moomintroll looked a bit mischievous, but mostly excitable, like someone with a surprise looks.

“I have an idea for a game,” Moomintroll chimed. He didn’t go on after that, which meant it must be Snufkin’s turn to talk.

“A new game?” Snufkin said, genuinely curious. Moomintroll was clever and inventive. It could be anything, and he made himself not make any mental guesses. It was nicer to be surprised most times.

“A variation on another,” Moomin said, rolling onto his back next to his friend. “Or maybe more like... a challenge for you.” at that, Snufkin huffed a bit.

“Well that sounds impressive. I have some doubt but you know me.” Snufkin always had to see things that were disbelieving (which Moomintroll did know well). ” What is it? Does it take two, or is it just me?”

“It takes two! Oh,” Moomintroll dulled down a little after he noticed his tone. “I’m making a big deal of it, sorry. It’s not really... well, I don’t know if it’ll be so exciting, just supposing.” Snufkin could tell Moomintroll felt silly now, but he was no less curious. Anything that made him so excited had to be something engaging. “You can opt out of it, too” Moomintroll added. Snufkin nodded in return.

“I’ll be honest in my reaction and interest,” Snufkin promised. “Go on, really.”

Moomintroll rolled onto his belly again, and now twiddled his paws below his snout. “Some time ago at night, we laid in the wood, and you let me help give you a good feeling.” Moomintroll looked up just in time to see the memory dawn on Snufkin, and watched him hiccup in start. Oh, he hoped it was not strange to bring up, perhaps he oughtn’t have. Perhaps that is one of those things that Snufkin must bring up himself and shouldn’t have thrust on him. There were a few things like that, things you can’t spring on a snufkin. There are things to be initiated by him only. He usually could tell, but he didn’t know with this (it was a very new thing).

But in a moment Snufkin smiled, still interested and still curious. 

“Boy, I couldn’t have guessed. You’ve thought of a game with that?” Snufkin crossed his legs, and Moomintroll sat up, his worries instantly assuaged, just like that.

“I wondered if you could manage playing your harmonica while I did it,” Moomintroll said, and here Snufkin’s hair seemed to raise a bit in surprise, and his eyes became wide. He coughed next, and Moomintroll laughed. “I didn’t think I’d surprise you so well!” He felt a jolt of accomplishment.

Snufkin tugged on his hat a couple times, something he did when he needed to gather the thoughts in his head and keep them from floating around. He took a bit of time to think about this, and Moomintroll was not anxious to give it to him. It was the sort of thing you had to think about, as much as one has to think before jumping into a river or go fishing that day. It was particular.

“Wow,” Snufkin sighed out at last, a breath of amusement at the end of it. “You know, I don’t know how I’d do at that. Maybe I’ll surprise you, or I’ll surprise myself.” Snufkin thinks, and whatever the turnout, it would be surprising, and that’s generally a good reason to do something. “Sure, let’s do it.”

At this Moomintroll practically gleamed. He felt so terribly clever for his idea. He scooched himself around, placing a paw on one of Snufkin’s knees, which was met with an obliging un-crossing of Snufkin’s legs,and parting them. He waited patiently while Snufkin took a few breaths, wiggled a little in the grass to settle himself, and fiddled with his harmonica. This was the sort of thing you had to be comfortable for. Neither was impatient, though admittedly, Snufkin was just a little nervous. Both were about the same amount of excited.

While their previous experience had been on a cool night in the wood, today was a bright and sunny summer’s day with the chatter of various things not too far off in the distance. But there was no less air between them and the world, and no less space in Moominvalley for two friends to have their peace. 

Moomintroll didn’t ask to begin. He slid his paw down Snufkin’s thigh, and then just along the brim of his trousers; then he looked up at him to received a nod as Snufkin drew the harmonica to his mouth. Leisurely, the notes began to trickle out, as soft and beautiful as any time Snufkin played for him. As always, Snufkin shut his eyes as if the music needed privacy to come out. It would feel terrible to interrupt him if it didn’t feel so exhilarating. 

With the notes coming out, Moomintroll’s paw trailed down beneath the fabric, and he didn’t even have to take a minute to remember how to move his fingers (he couldn’t possibly forget). He began with soft touches, breaks between rubs, which he thought complimented the leisurely tune, and knew Snufkin would appreciate.

He watched Snufkin’s brow twitch, but the music came out perfectly still. To play a harmonica must require so much breath control in and of itself, and Snufkin has probably played through many distractions. Moomintroll let the game choose its own pace, briefly closing his eyes to enjoy Snufkin’s music; he always loved when it was just for him. His fingers gently stroked. 

The tune was interrupted by a single queer note.

Moomintroll grinned immediately. Snufkin’s leg moved just some as they both at once knew the tone was shifting. Moomintroll dipped a bit more of his paw down, felt where Snufkin was wet (the most reassuring thing, knowing your friend is excited by you) and slid his fingers further investigatively, and it was enough to cause a break between two notes that should have been close together. He pressed them in—which he hadn’t done before—but he felt too brave right then to not do something with it. Snufkin’s brow furrowed and his eyes shut a bit tighter, and he forced the next notes to come out perfectly in defiance. Truly, this was a game.

Moomintroll was thankful Snufkin was keeping his eyes closed, because he may have looked too thrilled and been doing too much staring. He slipped his fingers back out and returned them to rubbing a little higher, now so perfectly slippery over their target.

Snufkin’s thigh twitched, and a terrible array of notes came out. Not right at all. They whistled out instead of singing, and oh—oh the most exciting part—Moomintroll heard the tiniest bit of Snufkin’s voice pushing through the instrument. Just a murmur. He couldn’t have imagined something so exciting to happen. 

He wondered something next, mad with power maybe. His paw stalled off the beat he had been keeping, staying still, and Snufkin’s harmonica stopped singing entirely, as if it were his paw commanding its song. Snufkin’s eyes just barely flitted open as he realized what he’d done, and he promptly had it sing out notes in the next second, but of course they both knew what had happened. When Moomintroll resumed his fingers, he felt kind to be doing it. 

Oh, it would be very easy to become cruel, doing a thing like this.

Moomintroll kept up a lovely pace for longer now, and enjoyed the shakey notes beginning to regularly wobble out. Snufkin was so flush, and a muscle twitched here and there, and his own compulsive need to budge his hips forward against Moomintroll’s paw was mucking up his lip’s place on his instrument. The sounds now were nothing but flawed, barely a song, notes had too much space and then not enough, drew out too long, then cut too short, but it was the perfect audio-visualization of their activity, and that was beautiful in another way. As a bonus, it sounded like an absurd racket to anyone who may have passed near, which was a great deterrent to any strangers who may approach a pretty song. 

Moomintroll’s fingers swirled and rubbed, dipped down and back up, until finally the most amazing thing happened. Punctuated with sudden silence, Snufkin’s paws smashed down into the grass at his side, his harmonica dropped and fell to the ground, and his teeth clenched as his brow furrowed. Moomintroll pressed his palm against him as he shuddered so much and then threw his head back, his hat falling off in the grass.

It was so much more of a spectacle than before, or any other time he had been there for Snufkin’s ministrations. Moomintroll couldn’t take his eyes off of it. It was so much—and it seemed to tear right through Snufkin, like very few things did. There was that lovely smell of sweat in the air, and the immediate stop to the notes rung through Moomintroll’s ears ever after it had long been over. He didn’t know the absence of a sound could be so captivating.

At last he lifted his paw out, and rubbed it off lazily on the grass. Snufkin lay collapsed on his back, head rested on his fallen-off heap of hat, and panting so. Moomintroll was breathing hard too, he finally noticed, but had no presence of mind to fix that. They spent a good amount of time breathing, Snufkin laying, Moomintroll sitting. 

At last, Snufkin laughed, just as he had before, on that cool night.

“Heck of a game,” he sighed out, still troubled for enough air. “I hope that was exciting.”

Moomintroll grinned the brightest, basking in a feeling of incredible success. “Oh, very!”


	3. Things Moomins Don't Do, Generally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Snufkin has some ideas for things to do.

That week, Moomintroll had found himself swept up in the tizzies of Moominhouse. At the moment things are all happening, they don’t often feel so exhausting, but once you’re sitting by yourself afterward it all seems to set in like a big dreary weight. He barely saw Snufkin at all in those days; the usual for when there was a big hustle and bustle. Sometimes he liked to get himself involved,but others he exercised his freedom to be completely isolated from it, sleeping in his tent despite the mid-summer season. Moomintroll never chastised him for that independence, but he did miss him. Some days, between the spaces in conversation, he could just hear Snufkin’s harmonica, coming from somewhere quite peaceful and surely alone.

Those days had passed and finally, he found himself sitting with nothing to do. Perfect, empty time.

Moomintroll didn’t always feel it was his place to seek out Snufkin. But if his harmonica could be heard at all, it was always for a reason. He could easily play it near a loud brook to drown out its tune, or on a solitary corner of the beach, or deep into the forest muffled by crowding trees. Moomintroll was sure every time it played in his earshot that it was meant for him.

While Snufkin did not understand a lot of Moomintroll’s activities and thinking, he had care for him all the same. A distant song was enough for Moomintroll to feel certain of that. It was in these ways that he never worried too much about Snufkin’s solitary habits and lonely desires.

Being the day that it was, that is, the first lonely day after so much commotion, Moomintroll stood a while at the veranda. Little My appeared to prod him, and he made a point to make his day’s plans sound boring and listless enough to drive away her curiosity.

He stood a good while. He stood, and listened, until at last: a note carried to him on the wind. Then more and more. He flitted his ears about, closing his eyes.

Then, he set out in the direction they swept from.

 

***

 

“Hello,” Snufkin said cheerfully.  That was that.

It didn’t need a reply. Moomintroll sat beside him, and Snufkin began playing Moomintroll’s favorite song to celebrate their reunion.  Moomintroll loved it; acting for their own sakes, there were no loud greetings, or parties or dancing, but the sensation of celebration all the same.

As the music died down, Moomintroll laid back into flowers. They were nestled in a slightly sunken valley between shallow hills, where flowers grew eagerly with rare interruption. He closed his eyes.

“Moomintroll.” Snufkin started, getting his attention. Moomintroll didn’t open his eyes but listened, imagining the simple conversation to be shared. “I’d like to do something for you today.”

“You mean besides playing songs,” Moomintroll opened one eye and smiled. It seemed Snufkin did so much for him in the little they shared. It was an immense little.

“Really,” Snufkin continued, and moved himself in the grass. He sat facing Moomintroll then, who finally sat up, feeling something a little strange in the air. “What we did before,” and here Snufkin paused, letting his tone and a shift of his eyes convey what he meant. Moomintroll sat himself up straighter. “It had me thinking about something else, that I think _you’d_ like. I haven’t done anything to you yet.”

Of course people think about you when you’re not there, but sometimes it feels very overwhelming to have it confirmed, which right then it did. Moomintroll wondered all at once, and too quickly, how often and of what specifically Snufkin would think about.

“I would be,” Moomintroll began, then had to contain himself, then sounded a little too proper for it to be natural, “....really quite okay with that.” He grimaced at himself after saying it.

But of course, Snufkin smiled and nodded, then removed his pipe from his mouth. He patted the ash out, then nestled it into the grass a foot away. Moomintroll shuffled around, wondering what to be doing to prepare for this. He settled on remembering to breathe.

Snufkin’s paw rested on his thigh, and he looked straight at him with no reservations. Moomintroll grabbed his own snout, but then Snufkin’s other paw overtook it.

Then, with a very sure pressure, Snufkin pushed Moomintroll’s nose up, and Moomintroll struggled to see anything. He felt Snufkin’s nose prod the underside of his snout, then warm lips press to his own.

Now, if Moomintroll were a Snufkin, Joxter, Mymble, or perhaps even a Hemulen, he would have known these sensations already. But Moomins—as their noses are so big, and their mouths so low under them—don’t kiss this way, so it was very new. Moomins (and Snorks, which were very similar shapewise) accomplished the sentiment by prodding each other with the round end of their noses, or nuzzling the sides of their snouts together. Reaching each other’s mouths would be clumsy, arduous, and maybe even impossible, if it were two moomins, or a moomin and a Snork. One couldn’t imagine it, so Moomintroll rather forgot the whole way some creatures shared affection.

So, he was quite surprised, and also unsure what to be doing, so he simply sat there and hoped he wasn’t doing anything to mess things up. Oh, Snufkin’s mouth was very warm, and it was so soft and squished against his.

Then at once, Snufkin’s tongue flitted across Moomintroll’s lip, and it tickled so he had to smile (it happened before he could worry about if smiling was the right thing to do or not).

He felt Snufkin’s slips tighten into a smile against his (oh, he felt a remarkable jolt for that). Suddenly he wanted to feel words this closely, to take them in, and the warmth of breath. He wanted to feel everything mouths do this closely. So he muttered, “Snufkin” in the hopes it would get him something in return.

“This is different, isn’t it?” Snufkin said, and he hadn’t backed up at all, so warmth poured over Moomintroll’s lips and the soft vibration of voice tickled. It sent such a shiver up his spine, which Snufkin felt and grinned for. “I forgot this isn’t really a thing Moomins do.”

“Oh, no,” Moomintroll said, dumb. He decided then he ought to stop talking. It had become so tough to think.

“Two noses would get in the way....” Snufkin continued, then thankfully resumed kissing (thankfully because this way, Moomintroll wouldn’t need to try to speak more and fail). Snufkin quite liked knowing this was an unfamiliar thing for Moomintroll, like getting to be the first to reach the tallest hill come Spring. He flitted his tongue out, then politely spoke, “you should open your mouth some.”

Moomintroll did and Snufkin wasted no time. It was strange, strange, strange. Warm and foreign, but oh, he had to think about it then, the tongue that spoke to him sliding about in his mouth, and the breath that sifted through the harmonica to become music, right here, and Moomintroll felt very, very dizzy from it. Though, that could also be from tilting his head back so much, which Moomins generally didn’t do for so long. In a moment it seemed that every swirl of Snufkin’s tongue twirled the blood in his head.

Snufkin’s hand moved on his thigh finally. On impulse, Moomintroll jumped and Snufkin broke the kiss to let him settle his head back down. He was panting. He had forgotten to breathe during all of that! But nobody felt bad for it.

Moomintroll’s head spun. It was one part kissing, and two parts all of the blood in his nose falling to his head. He paused a while until he could see straight.

“Sorry. Perhaps we should only do that in short burts,” Snufkin said. Moomintroll had to agree, solemnly.

“It was... was lovely though!” For the first time he regretted being a moomin, but only for a moment.  "Thank you for sharing it. I did enjoy it a lot.”

“Oh, that wasn’t what I was talking about, actually.” Snufkin’s thumb moved back and forth over Moomintroll’s thigh, which made focusing a challenge. “What I want to do...” he began again, touching his other hand to his own mouth in thought. “I don’t know how to describe it well. Well, I’ll ask-- there anything you don’t particularly like? Or a movement that’s good?”

“You can do whatever you’d like, I’m not as particular...” Moomintroll started, then he paused and turned away for a moment, “as you, uh. I’m sure I’ll like anything,” Moomintroll felt himself flush terribly.

It was all true, too. Moomintroll was not practiced and thoughtful even in his own ministrations, it was an occasional thing he did without a clear plan. Snufkin had a technique, but himself, hardly even a habit.

“I do think so too,” Snufkin said, almost cheeky, which was thrilling and worrying in a few ways. Then: “do you think you could close your eyes? You might be less nervous that way.”

Moomintroll was embarrassed to be called out on his nervousness, but under that he appreciated the offering, and nodded. Then Snufkin’s hand set onto his chest, and pressed Moomintroll backwards into the flowers. He waited a patient moment for Moomintroll to shimmy and move a few pebbled from under himself. Moomintroll got a final look at Snufkin’s easygoing smile, then closed his eyes.

With his eyes closed, Moomintroll could hear the distant birds more clearly. He listened to them and became too aware of his own noisy breathing, and couldn’t remember how to do it naturally. He felt Snufkin’s hands on his thighs, then the brim of his hat against his stomach.

Then breath on his nethers.

Snufkin felt his friend tense and softly pet Moomintroll’s thigh, but neither said a word just yet.

So very gently, Moomintroll felt snufkin’s thumb trailing over him, just a ghost of a touch. The brim of his hat tickled against him.

“Now,” Moomintroll shuddered to feel Snufkin’s voice vibrating against his skin again. “I’ve never done this for a Moomin before. You’ll let me know what’s good, I trust.” His voice was so close and his breath so warm. Moomintroll’s tail swished about under him in its limited space. And oh—Snufkin chuckled a little, and pressed with his thumb a little more, and Moomintroll felt dizzy all over again with no proper excuse for it this time.

He placed his paws under his snout and felt his own breath against them, and nodded for Snufkin’s sake. It was all he could do, and all Snufkin needed.

A tongue in one’s mouth is strange enough, but a tongue there— his mind went blank. The birds in the distance vanished in his periphery, and the grass under him fell away to the slide of Snufkin’s tongue and gentle pressure of his lips. He jumped and Snufkin’s hand promptly anchored on one of his hips and he urged ever more forward. Every time he slid his tongue over just so, Moomintroll simply couldn’t suppress a jolt all down his spine. His short legs kicked when his friend sucked. He could stand on his head for twenty minutes and not feel half as dizzy as he did right now, he was certain. His insides coiled like a spring by the second.

Finally Moomintroll muttered something completely unintelligable, he couldn’t help it. Voice sputtered out of him on breath he couldn’t control any better.

“What was that?” Snufkin said, and the sudden stop made the forward shove of Moomintroll’s hips ever more obvious. He had his paws clamped over his own mouth, now. “A noise of liking this?” Snufkin tried.

Moomintroll nodded, and Snufkin sank back into place and licked. Even without seeing it for himself, Moomintroll knew now that Snufkin must be watching his reactions closely. For every time he couldn’t hold back a noise, Snufkin repeated the motion thrice until poor Moomintroll had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Moomintroll felt the coiling in his belly, tighter and tighter, reaching up into his lungs and wrapping them in tension, so quickly, and too much, so much, until he trembled all over and grabbed at Snufkin’s hat (the nearest thing) with his paws. And Snufkin drove into him harder, not a pause, not even as Moomintroll’s thighs clamped around his head.

He had to cry out, there was no helping it. And in that moment if only he had anything on his mind outside of shivering and tugging, he would have felt Snufkin’s smile pressed right against him. But he could only feel and breathe.

Still Snufkin’s lips sucked and he licked, leaving Moomintroll no time to consider how he must look or the noises he was making. And Snufkin’s hands clutched at him, keeping him close, and now every little movement made Moomintroll twinge and his head swirl.  There were no thoughts in his head, only the wooshing of blood and pang after bang, and the coil tightening itself again as though it hadn’t just snapped.

He felt Snufkin’s hands taking over, and for just a second—as he couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own breathing and flush, and he was so dizzy he felt he needed some grounding--  he glanced at Snufkin. Oh.

Snufkin was terribly flush, and looking dead at him, the whole of his lower face was wet—his lips, cheeks, even his nose. And he panted terribly. His cheeky smile from earlier was  replaced with a look of determination, and something else Moomintroll could not easily understand, especially in this state.

Truly it must be his dizziness, but he was reminded of cats going after dragonflies!

Moomintroll couldn’t bare to look another second. He had a wild idea such a look could consume him.

He closed his eyes and bumped his hips again and again against Snufkin’s hand now, ‘til he felt nearly sick with it, but he couldn’t stop, and he didn’t know what he wanted but to keep going ever forward as long as Snufkin kept moving towards him.  For every time he shimmied away in the grass a few inches, Snufkin trudged forward, and if he had looked he could see the trampled flowers marking their game.

Again his chest and middle became tight, constricted, with every press a twinge, until the spring snapped for all the effort.

Moomintroll shook all over, just as before, but his cry was more desperate now, and so much ragged breath laced its beginning and end, he had barely moved but felt himself so strained and worn. To the tune of cut breath, Snufkin descended back down with his tongue as if he had been told to. Moomintroll was far beyond holding back, far beyond considering his own actions, or considering anything at all. He was unraveling and had no destination in his mind.

Rapidly the coil re-built itself until again he tensed and shook and felt every muscle singing with the effort, blow out, and reignite at the next instant. He bumped against Snufkin and felt a sharp pang and shivered backwards, and Snufkin would urge right back into place. How long had it been? Moomintroll grabbed at the grass which snapped in his terse grip, he let out a small keening sound on every single contact Snufkin made with him; there was no precision anymore, only an onslaught, or, perhaps, he simply couldn’t decipher anything further than that. There was no preparing for it, no bracing, or avoiding. He would feel a tongue, then hands, then a palm to rut against, then lips, until he didn’t know which from which and could only register an aches and pangs and pressure, pressure, pressure.

(To account all of its parts, it would seem an unbearable torture for a tender Moomintroll to endure.  Yet he knew more than well he could tap Snufkin’s head, or paw, or anything and meet an end to it all immediately. And it's good to remember Moomintrolls love the thrill of adventure.)

His legs kicked out and he twisted so, he snapped countless flowers under his paws and could not breathe if he could even remember to do it, the whole of function suspended. His paws ached with their gripping, his thighs shook pathetically as they attempted to clamp around Snufkin again, all their strength used up.

There was a pause then. Moomintroll didn’t breathe, for the stop was as startling as anything else, and all he could do in any event was lay in the grass. He took this time to try to gather the pieces of himself together and feel each ache he now had.

Snufkin’s paws left him. As hard as Moomintroll wondered what he was looking like, he couldn’t sit up just then. He stared at the sky.

It was a long while before either of them moved further.

In time, Moomintroll collected the bits of himself that had scrambled to nothingness. He sat up, though twitched at even mere blades of grass tickling him beneath. Snufkin sat in front of him, leaned back on his arms, also panting. The moment he looked up, Snufkin smiled, and that was as potent as the grass’s benign touch.  He licked his lips intermitently, which Moomintroll tried not to think too much about, lest he get embarrassed all over again.

“I may have gotten carried away,” Snufkin breathed out.

“A lovely day for getting carried away,” Moomintroll replied.

The rest of the day, Moomintroll couldn’t manage to walk, and Snufkin couldn’t play his harmonica. They laid in the flowers together ‘til the sun was gone, thinking about their favorite moments of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moomintroll's 'bits' are intentionally ambiguous... he is a creature, so you can imagine his configuration of parts any way you like.
> 
> hope it was obvious but-- this is a good ol' multi-orgasm/overwhelm fic :B


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